


what's coming is already on its way

by anonymousdaredevils



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Angst, Choking, M/M, Size Difference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 02:50:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5358197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonymousdaredevils/pseuds/anonymousdaredevils
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for <a href="http://daredevilkink.dreamwidth.org/1742.html?thread=3418062#cmt3418062"> this prompt</a> on the kinkmeme:</p><p>For anybody with a size kink like mine, all I want is Matt/Fisk rough noncon, sometime after Fisk meets Matt at the gallery, and for it to happen in Matt's office. If Fisk corners him there after hours, when Matt can't be DD yet, what does Matt have left to fight with? Even if Matt lets the devil out, all Fisk really has to do is grab him and squeeze, and the fight would be over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	what's coming is already on its way

If Matt had punched him and gone out the window instead of saying "most people find wild accusations and baseless speculation a waste of time," it might not have happened at all.   
  
Then again, it might've.   
  
He hadn't really realized just how strong Fisk actually was, until that night.   
  
**  
  
It hadn't been a  _decision_ , once Fisk had him pinned and held him down across his own desk, so much as a panic response: he'd been under someone bigger and heavier than him, someone who  _knew_ , they both knew that Fisk didn't need evidence that would stand in a court of law to begin destroying Matt's life.   
  
"Fight if you need to," Fisk had said. He'd sounded bored, condescending.   
  
He hadn't been. He'd been paying very fucking close attention, because Matt realized that he was in a shitty situation and had slumped the first time, knowing that he still had the energy left to fight, hoping to lull Fisk into making a mistake, shifting his weight just enough to let Matt get  _away_. He'd heard his own breathing in the office, noisy and panting. Fisk had been breathing fast, interested, but he hadn't even been sweating. That's how easy it had been to hold Matt down, for him.   
  
Fisk hadn't moved.   
  
Just stayed there, waiting, quiet, patient, and after a minute the  _shame_  and fear had hit Matt like a freight train, like slipping and falling two stories, because he was not getting out of this, so he'd - 

**  
  
The third time, Matt had started to yell, and Fisk had shifted his weight to one arm, grabbed Matt by the neck, he was  _huge_ , it was insane how far he could wrap one hand around Matt's throat, put enough pressure on that he  _almost couldn't breathe_. Kept waiting.   
  
(And Matt knew that he was letting him tire himself out, that this was pointless, he absolutely knew it, but he couldn't stop. Especially when he thought that Fisk was simply going to slowly choke him unconscious: that was bad enough.)   
  
When his lungs were burning and his ears had started to ring, Fisk let go of his neck. While Matt was coughing and gasping and shoved facedown over his own desk like a doll, he realized that Fisk was  _yanking his pants down_ , what, why was he -  _that's a stupid thing to do_ , Matt thought,  _why would he -_    
  
"I don't feel my suspicions are baseless, Mr. Murdock," Fisk said, first thing he'd said since Matt had opened his stupid mouth. 

**

For a minute Matt thought  _brain damage_  or that, impossibly, his senses were wrong, because every gasp he took made it clear that -   
  
\- he could smell -   
  
\- but  _why_ , Matt thought, desperately,  _no why, no_  - because he kept breathing in  _arousal_ , choking on that the way he'd choked around Fisk's hand thirty seconds ago.   
  
No no no went through his brain like a dentist's drill, no no no: there were things he could do, there were moves he could try,  _Stick_  had taught him - something, he couldn't think - about what to do if your opponent had you facedown. They'd never practiced with Matt's pants halfway round his legs, though, tangling him and trapping him even more, he felt -   
  
\- he couldn't close his mouth, he had started shaking, that was bad because he couldn't set his jaw and grit his teeth right now, didn't know why, but it was bad because that meant he heard himself say "no  _don't_."   
  
He sounded afraid.   
  
(He sounded  _terrified_ , his voice broke like he'd just been choked out.)  
  
"You have a beautiful body," Fisk said, like he was commenting on the weather, but his hand was on Matt's hip, crushingly tight, hard enough to bruise, and he sounded contemplative. Because Matt was exhausted and oxygen-starved, his mouth said "please don't -" without checking in with his brain first and it was shocking and disgusting to hear the way he sounded.   
  
People had said that before.   
  
Women.   
  
Mostly.   
  
In context. People had. It had never. No one had ever said it like  _this_.   
  
He kept gasping.   
  
Thick air, humid, smelled like arousal, felt like it was seeping into his pores, felt like there was no way to get away from it. 

**

("Sonny boy," Foggy had told Matt, trying to imitate Mr. White's octogenarian quaver and failing badly, "social security is a privilege, not a  _right_ ," and even though it was a terrible impression Karen and Matt had wound up giggling. Mr. White was - difficult, even on his good days)  
  
**  
  
"Sooner or later, son," Fisk said, pushing inexorably further into Matt's hole, "everyone does what I ask them to," and it felt like he was being cut in half.


End file.
